


A Dangerous Venture

by TheWanderingAvarian



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Imperialism, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 07:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14929964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWanderingAvarian/pseuds/TheWanderingAvarian
Summary: Luna could barely remember what life was like before the Imperials came to Tenebrae. So much had been taken from her, so much had been taken from her people. But, when she was still living imprisoned in Fenestala Manor, she had found a way to fight back, to resist against the Empire, even if only in small ways. This would be the culmination of weeks of preparation: this would be the day she stole from the Empire.





	A Dangerous Venture

It was a beautiful day. 

That was the first thing Luna thought as she looked out of her window and down at the sea of flowers that lay below it. How long had she spent curating her garden so that everything in it was just as she wanted? It was one of the few pleasures allowed to her as a ‘symbol of the peace’ and it was so easy to get lost in the endless flurry of colours and scents provided by them, to stop concentrating on how every hour she spent locked up inside her home more and more of her people were getting sick with the Starscourge. It was starting to spread faster now. 

She began to walk slowly towards her door, and she couldn’t help but tense up as her hand closed over the doorknob—even having the privilege of her own room was an ephemeral gift, and every moment she had in it to herself felt precious. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to go outside. The sun felt warm on her back. A soft breeze brushed her hair past her face. She had to do this. 

As she stepped out into the hallway she looked up at the ceiling, searching for some pattern, or sign, or anything, really. Something to remind her that this was really still her home. But the elaborately painted facsimile of the night sky offered no answers for her, only a vast, gaping darkness, from which she wasn’t sure she could ever escape. She returned her gaze to the hallway ahead of her. It did her no good to think about such things. She needed to keep looking forward, into the future, where there was still some hope of a light to break through the darkness. It was probably quite ironic, she thought, as she walked through the white columns that lined every wall, that a place of such blinding light was so utterly enshrouded in the darkness. 

That’s what Niflheim did to places, it took them, and it let everything look the same—Tenebrae was still bright and green, Accordo was still beautiful and twisting, and if you could forget about the annual visits from the military as they patrolled the streets, if you could forget about the people in your life that had gone missing for speaking out against the Empire, if you could forget about the guns pointed at you from the shadows, watching, waiting to see you slip up, then it almost seemed like nothing had changed. 

Except for the daemons. 

Every night came a vicious and cruel reminder that Niflheim never left. The daemons seemed to follow the soldiers that came from Niflheim everywhere they went, and as they did, they brought the Starscourge with them. And with the Starscourge, Luna felt her purpose become realised. She didn’t know what the Empire did that spread it through the land like a plague, whether it was deliberate or merely a side-effect of their twisted and ill-tested magical infantry, but she knew that it was her duty to stop it. 

The Oracle heals people. 

That was a truth that was taught to her almost from the moment she could understand the idea. It was her duty and her purpose to heal the people of Eos and alleviate their suffering, and knowing this gave her life meaning, even while she was in the depths of despair. But sometimes, when she was in the darkest of her moods, and no amount of light, and reading through her notebooks to Noctis and talking with Gentiana could cheer her, she felt as though it was selfish of her to feel this way. Because she drew strength from the suffering of others. 

She knew that sometimes the chance to heal the Starscourge was the only chance she had to leave her home, to feel as though she was worth something to someone, not merely a pawn of the Empire, trapped in beautiful, shining cage. But she also had a greater purpose—to commune with the Gods, and make their will known on the star, and she knew from this great and terrible purpose exactly what the Starscourge did to the people it infected. And she also knew that she couldn’t save everyone. Sometimes that knowledge made her want to scream and throw things at her wall, to do something,  _ anything,  _ to try and convince the Imperials to let her go, to let her help, to do something to alleviate how utterly  _ helpless _ she felt. But sometimes that knowledge gave her strength and let her know that, even in spite of every instinct she had telling her to stop, she was still doing the right thing. This was one of those moments.

And so, as she walked briskly through the winding, airy corridors of the building that had once been her home, she knew what she needed to do. The guards that were stationed in out of the way corners of the house would soon change their shift, and that was the opportunity she needed to slip by them and out of their grasp. No one would see her leave, and as far as she was concerned, she would be as a ghost where she was going next. 

She wasn’t wearing white today. One of the many ways the Empire had trapped her in their grasp was that they’d done their utmost to make sure that there wasn’t a person in Tenebrae that didn’t know what she looked like. Part of it was her duties as Oracle—she could hardly hide her face while trying to heal people of their ills, and she wouldn’t want to, but part of it was how she was made to parade through the streets with the military of the Empire every year. And no one missed the parades. They weren’t allowed to. 

Even if Ravus hadn’t joined the military under his own power, they’d have found some way of making him attend too, and Luna couldn’t help but wonder whether, in another world, one where they were united in thought about Niflheim’s conquest, they would have been able to laugh at each other before they were forced outside at gunpoint. Whether in that other world her brother would still joke with her about the excessive ceremony that went with her duties as Oracle, whether in that world, they would still send each other letters that weren’t merely confirmations of safety, or the movement of Niflheim’s military. Luna knew that Ravus loved her, and wanted more than anything else to keep her safe, but she also knew that their bond as siblings, as friends, and even as people who trusted each other, had been so eroded, so broken down by their own decisions and by the constant presence of the Empire in their lives, that it barely existed anymore. And the worst thing was that sometimes she couldn’t even bring herself to be upset about it. 

It was almost twelve o’clock, almost time for the change of shift. She stood in the shadows, just behind the long blue curtain that hung between the drawing room and the foyer, just as she had done so many times as a child. She used to stand there and watch as her mother greeted guests at the door, too shy to come out and see them herself. Sometimes, if she concentrated hard enough, she could still remember her mother’s smile, as she would turn and tell her:

“There’s nothing to be scared of Luna, it’s only mother’s friend—look.”

And she would sweep Luna up in her arms and carry her over to the door, Luna laughing and protesting all the while, and sure enough, it would just be a person—nothing to be scared of. 

She tried to tell herself that now, that there was nothing to be scared of, even though she knew that there were so many things to be scared of, and that the person knocking at the door might not be a person at all, but have red lights for eyes, and machine guns for hands, and that at any moment her life could be brought to a swift and painful end. The Generals of Niflheim wouldn’t kill her—they knew the position of the Oracle was too sacred. But those robots—did they even think at all? If even one of their commanders got tired of her, ordered them to fire on her, she knew they wouldn’t even hesitate. It would be over—just like that. 

She breathed in deeply. A humanoid figure stirred in the shadows. She watched carefully as it slowly, mechanically began to turn away from where it stood and walk out into the light, just as she saw another MT come walking down the hall. This was her moment. There was a blind spot in their patrol just as the approaching MT passed by her curtain, and as it did Luna fell into to a crouch and ran as quickly as she could behind its back and through to the conservatory, where the tall glass doors were still open from earlier. She walked through them as quickly as she dared, and all at once, she was outside, in the pleasant heat of late spring. 

Her garden stretched out in front of her, the myriad of blooms swaying slightly in the gentle breeze, but she didn’t have time to stand around and enjoy the view. She began to wade through a sea of snapdragons which were just beginning to bloom, down towards a high wall which was meant to prevent anyone from falling to their death down the mountain on which Fenestala Manor stood, watching over the kingdom. As she reached it, she quickly brushed her hands over the rough stone, feeling for the dent which concealed the location of a secret door. It was an old passageway out of the castle that her mother had shown her when she was still very little. Fenestala Manor was full of such passageways and hiding places, but though the Imperials knew most of them by now, they’d never bothered to look in the grounds—possibly wary of interfering with the sylleblossoms, another sacred tradition of the Oracles. 

Luna hesitated for a moment before continuing out of the garden. Any pretence she might have invented for sneaking around the house and grounds would become void the moment she left. This was her last chance to turn back, and she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t terrified of the consequences if anyone found her. But she’d been living in a state of constant fear for so long now, and this was her chance to change things. This was her duty. 

She walked through the concealed door, closing it carefully behind her, and regulated her breathing. She’d done it. She’d made it out of the Manor undetected, and somewhere she knew her mother was smiling. She now found herself standing on a somewhat precarious walkway, which circled down and down around the mountain, before finally intersecting with a mostly unused bridge that led back to what was formerly the aristocracy’s quarter. Only the Governor and her cohort lived there now.  

Luna began to slowly, carefully descend down the steps, one hand to the sheer rock face next to her. The walkway was so narrow she only just had enough room to stand with her feet a few centimetres apart, and as she continued to walk, her feet occasionally slipping below her, and her grip tight on the rock face, she could feel herself trembling. Luna wasn’t afraid of heights, but she was afraid of falling to her death, especially when so many people were relying on her to stay alive. Although fear was a useful emotion; something living under the control of the Empire had taught her long ago, it wasn’t helping her now. So, taking a deep breath, she pushed the fear down and took another step forward, and another, thinking of nothing but moving forward—always moving forward.

Eventually the path opened out into a stable stone walkway, and when Luna knew that she once more had stable footing, she allowed herself to feel fear once more. In that moment the force of her emotions made her fall to her knees, and she was still shaking, and now she was crying too, because she had  _ made it. _ She was almost there. 

Sprawling towers spiralled above her and into the sky, towering huge above everything else, with the exception, of course, of Fenestala Manor. She knew where she had to go. The streets were empty as Luna cautiously made her way from alley to alley, brushing away leaves and branches that had begun to grow up between the buildings as they fell into disuse. There was only one tower left in the aristocracy’s quarter that was still in use—only one tower where every resident was safe from the wrath of Niflheim. 

It had been repainted when Niflheim officially took residence there, back when her mother had still been alive, its striking white and red colours standing out against the lush greenery all around it. Luna was standing under the cover of one of the huge trees that lined the street, their growth left unchecked now that all of the residents had either mysteriously vanished or suddenly been plagued by debt that came out of nowhere. There was an unsettling stillness in the air as she made her way cautiously over to one of the windows looking out onto the street, and well out of sight of the main doorway. 

Carefully, perhaps too carefully, she crept under the window frame, and listened intently for any voices inside. There were none. She cautiously lifted her head and peered into the room, which was completely empty of people, though there were clear signs of inhabitants. The room itself was luxurious, with expensive furnishings and deep red decorations all around. Something about the shade set Luna’s teeth on edge. It was so dark it was almost like wine—or blood. 

Slowly, she grasped the pane of the window, sliding her nails beneath the fixture and then heaved upwards, sliding the window free and allowing her entrance to the room. Cat-like, she crept inside, and flattened herself to the wall, intensely wary of the danger should she be caught here. But it was far too late to turn back now. She made her way over to the door and cracked it open, glancing both ways along the corridor before emerging into the building proper. 

It was dark in the corridor, and as she looked up, Luna could see that the light fixtures had been covered with some sort of light gauze, dimming their intensity. It seemed the residents of the building didn’t like the light very much. Perhaps that was why there was so little activity outside. She crept through corridor after corridor, each one much the same as the last, relying only on her memory of the map Ravus had sent her as a guide. Finally, after what felt like hours, she stood in front of the door that lead to her destination. The office of the Governor. 

She was near the top of the building now, it would be difficult to find a way out if she was caught...she tried to put the thought out of her mind. She wouldn’t be caught. She  _ couldn’t  _ be. Gently, making as little noise as possible, she opened the door to the office. She’d heard no voices inside, it should be empty. 

However, as the full view of the room emerged, it became suddenly and terrifyingly clear that it definitely wasn’t. The Governor was lying sprawled back in her chair, and for a moment Luna was terrified she’d stumbled on a dead body. But then the body gave a snore, and Luna quickly realised that the woman was merely asleep. Not that that made the prospect of what she was about to do any less terrifying. 

As quietly as a mouse, with every noise she made sounding to her as though it had been magnified a hundred times, Luna began to creep over to the cabinet file in the corner of the room, behind where the Governor lay sprawled in her chair. Every footstep sounded to her like a crash of thunder, every creak like the floorboards shattering beneath her feet. She could hear herself breathing and feel the frantic beat of her heart against her ribs. 

As she approached the desk, the Governor gave a snort and moved her hand slightly. Luna froze in place. But she didn’t wake up, and so, breathing deeply, Luna continued to advance towards the cabinet. 

When she reached it, she felt like she’d been in the room for an hour, and reaching into her pocket, her hands shaking uncontrollably, she retrieved the key she’d stolen from the Governor nearly a month ago. The woman had long since received a replacement, but Luna still had the original. There had been such fury after its disappearance, Luna had found it exceptionally hard to hide from her captors, and just holding it in her hands made her feel slightly light-headed. But she still needed to go through with this. 

Inserting the key into the top drawer, Luna unlocked it with a gentle  _ click _ and this time she didn’t even wait to see if the Governor awoke. Pulling the drawer open, she needed to take only a brief glance inside to spot the document she needed—a colourful map attached to it. She withdrew it from where it sat, and folded it in half several times, until it was small enough to fit in her pocket. Stowing it away, she closed the drawer and locked it, hiding her key with the map, and not even turning to check on the Governor as she crept out of the office, and closed the door behind her. 

Luna wasn’t entirely sure how she managed to get out of the building, it all seemed to blend into one image of adrenaline and deep terror all wrapped up in one. But now she was back outside the building again, in the warm, green streets of the aristocracy’s quarter and heading away from the ominous place as quickly as possible. 

It wasn’t until she was standing back in her garden that Luna’s thoughts were entirely her own again. Everything seemed peaceful when she was outside like this, like nothing could touch her. The flowers blew gently in the breeze, and if she closed her eyes, and concentrated hard enough, she could almost hear her mother’s voice carrying across the garden, talking happily with some other unknown person, of whom Luna only had a very distant memory. Her father perhaps? 

She opened her eyes again and found she had wandered into a quiet enclave of the garden with a bench and small fountain, closed off from the house by a small crop of trees which concealed it from view. She knew this place very well. Once, what felt like a very long time ago now, she and Ravus used to meet there before dawn and just talk to each other about what was going on in their lives while they were separated by the Empire. It had been their only opportunity to simply be siblings after their mother died, and it had all come to an abrupt end some time ago, when Ravus joined the military. 

Luna sat down on the bench, and all at once she could remember the day that he’d never arrived. She’d arrived at their meeting place, eager to tell him about her lessons in healing, and waited. When at first he didn’t arrive, she was merely distracted, instead busying herself by floating her hands in the fountain, and peering at the flowers dotted all around, but then it got later, and he still didn’t come. She’d begun to get worried, and when dawn came and he still hadn’t arrived she’d returned despondently to her room, and told herself that he’d just woken up too late that day.

And then she’d waited there the next day, and the next, all the while getting more and more worried about what had happened to him—where had he gone? She’d stopped seeing him around the house some time ago, and she’d even turned to trying to send him messages with Umbra, but still, nothing. Months passed, and even Gentiana’s attempts at reassurance couldn’t comfort her, she had become convinced that Ravus has been killed for some grievance, and every day she found it harder and harder to perform her training, to pretend to be alright. One day she simply went into her room, barricaded the door, and didn’t come out again for a week, with no one being able to enter. 

It was six months after he disappeared that Luna had glanced up at the broadcast of the military parade, and seen Ravus standing there, nearly unrecognisable in his military uniform, that she realised what had truly happened. She could still remember how her glass of water had dropped from her limp hand and shattered on the floor, and she’d felt nothing. Never had she felt such despair, such overwhelming betrayal. They had eventually gotten back into contact, and Ravus had even apologised, explaining how he’d done it to try and help her. But sometimes, in her more dark moments, she was still that lonely little girl, waiting for her brother on the bench, watching the sunrise as her hope began to fade away. 

When she came back to herself, Luna could feel tears running down her cheeks, and knowing no one would see her, she bent down over her knees, covered her face with her hands and gave in to her grief, sobbing openly about how much she had lost to the Empire. Her mother, her brother, her freedom, every thought of the future she’d ever had: twisted and destroyed by their presence. Never had she hated anything so deeply, with the entirety of her being, than she hated the Empire in that moment. 

When she regained control of her breathing, she found a deep numbness in her soul—as though all of the feelings had been sucked out of her by her fit of despair, leaving nothing behind except emptiness. It wasn’t a bad feeling. It wasn’t anything, really. 

She glanced down into the waters of the fountain, and through the ripples, she saw her face reflected up at her, her eyes puffy and red, her nose running, and an unsettling pallidness to her face that clearly wasn’t solely from lack of sunlight. A far cry from the untouchable Oracle. She couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. If only her people could see her now. See what the Empire had done. But that was a far away dream. 

She rose once more from the bench and began to walk back to the house, carrying herself with all the dignity she could muster. She had an important letter to send. 

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I really admire Luna as a character, especially with all the bs she has to put up with. Her strength and will to persevere through danger and stress is often neglected, so I wanted to write this as something of a remedy to that—not to mention how I believe wholeheartedly that she helped Ravus resist the Empire from the inside. Also, angst is literally my favourite thing, and so it was about time I wrote something like this with Luna in mind.


End file.
